


Hands On (In)

by signifying_nothing



Category: K-pop, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: Established Relationship, Fisting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-12
Updated: 2015-12-12
Packaged: 2018-05-06 08:58:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,497
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5410805
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/signifying_nothing/pseuds/signifying_nothing
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>in which yoongi's hands are the perfect size.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hands On (In)

He's got nice, smallish hands. His palms aren't broad but his wrists aren't thin either, and he keeps his fingernails nice and short for moments like this one, when his lover is on his knees and shoulders, clutching at the floor and mewling like a cat in heat, trying not to wiggle and failing beautifully.

The bathroom is warm and quiet. They chose this apartment specifically (partially)  _for_ the bathroom (but also for the heated water that ran through the tubes beneath the floor of the whole place.) They didn't like to mess around in the bedroom—that served other purposes. But the bathroom is warm and dry, the faux-old style radiator hissing gently while Yoongi pulls his hand back, then eases it forward. The sound of polyurethane and skin makes his dick twitch, but he's focused on Hoseok right now, Hoseok's breathing, the heave of his back when the widest part of Yoongi's hand presses forward but can't quite make it past.

“You might be too tight for this tonight, Seokah,” Yoongi murmurs, kissing the round of his hip and rolling his eyes at the defiant little growl. Hoseok so rarely wants anything special from Yoongi. “Do you feel okay?”

“Stop it,” Hoseok complains, turning his head to look up at Yoongi from where his head is mostly buried in his forearms. “Just—just _do it._ ”

“No,” Yoongi replies, giving the back of Hoseok's thigh a slap. He nods in satisfaction at the yelp and twitch forward, easing his hand up between Hoseok's legs to stroke his erection. “It's been a while. I'll do it at my own pace.”

“But I want it _now,_ ” Hoseok whines. Yoongi coos and tugs his cock.

“Shhh.” Yoongi pulls his hand back to get more lubricant on his glove. Hoseok is prettily blushed, panting into his arms and the floor and arching his back. “Think sexy thoughts,” he says, and Hoseok groans.

“Yoongi,”

“Think, Kim Seokjin in a schoolgirl outfit, on his knees between your legs.”

“Yoongi.”

“Maybe with that gold eyeshadow you like so much.”

“ _Yoongi._ ”

“And he's got your dick on his tongue and he's touching his tiny cock under that skirt you just _know it_ \--”

“Ah--!”

Yoongi smirks as Hoseok loosens then clenches up, halfway through the widest point on Yoongi's hand. Hoseok has a weakness for Seokjin: he complains often that he's just too fucking sexy and Yoongi agrees, if the twitch of his own cock is any indication. He eased his hand away, pushes four fingers back in and flexes them, rubbing his thumb across Hoseok's skin. Hoseok groans impatiently.

“Yoongiii,” he whines, wiggling his hips. “Come on, I can take it, _please?_ ”

They've been at it a while, to be fair. Almost an hour, but they've made it last four. Sex is communication is sex and Yoongi has always taken everything he does with Hoseok very seriously, because it took them a long time to find one another and Yoongi is terrified that all it's going to take is one big fuck up to ruin it. He eases his hand out and re-lubricates with a few pumps from the bottle. “Fine, fine. You're so needy,” the tease is accompanied by a kiss to the backside and Hoseok gives a breathless laugh.

“Like you're one to ta-aah--”

“Push out, Seokah,” Yoongi murmurs, watching Hoseok's ass flex, his thighs tense. “Come on, a little more, that's it—yes, that's it, fuck--”

Yoongi watches his hand disappear into Hoseok's body, listens to Hoseok wail into his arms, hears the pull of his nails across the floor that means he's done exactly what he meant to do. Hoseok is moaning in stutters, hips jerking, but he can't pull back off the ball of Yoongi's wrist, so he just wiggles and groans, shouts in surprise when Yoongi starts to move his fingers apart to get them into a better position.

“Fuck—fuck, Yoongi, christ--” Hoseok's cock is dripping all over the tile and Yoongi smirks, his breath short at the knowledge that Hoseok loves being like this, trapped, emotionally pinned. Usually it's Hoseok on top of Yoongi, in front of him, fondling his nipples until he's thrashing and sobbing, making him fuck himself on a toy while using his mouth on Hoseok's impressive cock but this little inch of control he gives Yoongi—moments like this one—make Yoongi's head spin.

“I've got you,” he murmurs, kissing Hoseok's hip and tucking his thumb behind his fingers, pumping lubricant up his lower forearm and rocking his hand forward, then back. Forward, then back. Hoseok is making tiny distressed noises, but he hasn't reached for the little light-up ball that acts as their safeword, since Hoseok can't be trusted to remember to voice his pain or concerns.

“I've got you, Hoseok, are you okay? Does it hurt?”

“ _No,_ ” Hoseok moans, laugh-smiling into the floor and his arms, starting to rock his hips carefully. “Shit, no, doesn't hurt—nnn fuck, fuck me, _now_.” He cries out in appreciation when Yoongi pulls his hand back as though trying to remove it then pushes it forward, deep. The polyurethane gloves go up to his elbow, and although he's sure they won't need that much length today (and probably never need that much length, ever,) he never knows, with Hoseok.

“Fuck yourself,” he says, after a moment of appeasing Hoseok's needs. He gets up on his knees and lets his bent elbow rest against his own belly, positioning himself so Hoseok can fuck back onto his hand and arm at an easy angle. Hoseok grunts and rocks himself back, only taking an inch, maybe two, beyond Yoongi's wrist. Yoongi starts to move in counter-time to him, pushing, his free hand reaching to pull his cock. “You're such a size queen,” he accuses, smiling at Hoseok's breathless laughter.

“Good thing you're the pe-perfect si, ohfuck size, Yoongiyah,” he manages, groaning when he pulls back and almost off of Yoongi's hand only to push himself down. “Fuck,” he whisper-sobs. “Yoongi.”

With care, Yoongi starts to rotate his arm to be palm up, and curls his wrist back. Hoseok shouts and moves harder, faster, pushing up from his forearms, abandoning his relaxed position in favor of getting leverage on his hands and knees. “Yes,” he says, carefully pushing into Hoseok's increasingly frantic thrusts. “Oh fuck yes, _yes,_ Hoseok.”

Hoseok's back bends and he pulls himself off of Yoongi's hand before sinking back on, repeating the motion twice-- three times, four and his bladder can't take the abuse of those curled fingers, he's cumming and pissing and jerking forward, fucking himself on Yoongi's small hand until he pulls off and whimpers, head hung.

His hole is raw pink, gaping open and Yoongi gets onto his knees, sitting up straight and pressing his elbow down onto Hoseok's back to make him spread his legs so Yoongi can ease his cock into his abused body. It only takes a few thrusts, Yoongi bending over Hoseok's body to wrap his arm around his shoulder for him to cum, panting, kissing the vulnerable back of Hoseok's neck, sweaty with pleasure and exertion.

He eases away slowly.

“You made a mess,” Yoongi complains, rather enjoying the sloppy sound his dick makes when he pulls out, Hoseok's hole gaping then clenching closed, but not before Yoongi's cum spills out onto his thigh.

“Nnn, fuck you,” he says, crawling towards the tub and turning on the water.

“Next time,” Yoongi promises, laughing as he throws a towel on the mess of cum and clear piss on the floor. “Next time, I promise.” He puts the towel into the hamper—he has to start laundry before bed, anyway—and joins Hoseok at the tub, where he sits with the shower on, rubbing his body with soap. “Want some help, baby,” he asks, kissing Hoseok's shoulder, biting carefully.

“Yeah,” he sighs, tipping his head forward onto Yoongi's shoulder as the older man parts his cheeks and rubs at the skin, teases his ass with a finger until there's a warm little gush of lubricant and cum spilling onto the bottom of the tub, washed away by the water. “Mm. We can sleep late tomorrow, right?”

“Mm, I don't see why not,” Yoongi says, letting Hoseok lean into him, resting his cheek on wet hair. “I don't have to go to work.”

“Mmmkay,” Hoseok says, and Yoongi smiles; he leads Hoseok to the bedroom when he's dry, tucks him in and kisses his head. It's a rare tenderness, the one Yoongi feels for Hoseok. And it's only Hoseok who brings out such things in him.

“Yoongi,” he says, his eyes closed.

“Mm?”

“You're the best.”

“I know.”

Hoseok smiles and drifts off. Yoongi is left feeling warm, climbing into bed and turning off the light. As he falls off to sleep himself, he's teased by lips on his ear and a quiet _I love you._ He hums, and turns to kiss Hoseok on the mouth.

“Love you too, baby.”

**Author's Note:**

> i take full responsibility for this nastiness. this was an anonymous request via tumblr and previously posted at livejournal.


End file.
